The Endless Always
by wistfulweaverwoman
Summary: An AU where neither Prim nor Peeta are reaped into the Hunger Games when Kaniss is 16. Still, that summer she and Peeta manage to find each other anyways. Two one-shots from Promps in Panem that were requested to continue in a multichapter story. Rated M for possible future mature content
1. Chapter 1 Midsummer

Every year, following the completion of the Games, and after school had let out for the summer, the residents of District 12 prepare for Midsummer, a local holiday. Many young couples marry, either just before or on the day of celebration.

There is some dispute in local lore whether the origin of the holiday was to celebrate the many nuptials of their poor community all at one time, or if the young, who'd just aged out of Reaping, wed at a time when nearly all were most thankful, with food and fiddles and dancing to add to their joy.

Booths and tables are set up like market day in the square. Paper lanterns, once white, and faded old bunting, are removed from some dusty corner of the Justice building. They're hung above and around the square, giving it a welcomed festive appearance.

Shopkeepers and tradesmen sell unusual treats such as salted popped corn tucked into paper cones, small goat meat pies, glass beaded bracelets, or paper flowers. Tables groan with food each family brings to share. Dried fruit or some pickled vegetable are common, there are casseroles, pots of broth or stew, platters of sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, baskets of rolls, golden and yeasty, others flat and dark. There is more during a good year, and much less in a bad one.

This year Katniss Everdeen was feeling particularly grateful. It had been Prim's first Reaping and both had made it through unscathed. Neither had known the two kids that had left for the Capitol, and so the Games hadn't been any more horrible than usual.

Katniss had worked out a deal with the town butcher, if she and Gale, her best friend and hunting partner, supplied the meat then Ruba would roast it. After tracking for several days they'd managed to take down a large buck, and two days later a wild pig, bringing them to Ruba after dark, to avoid a commotion. Katniss was glad they'd been able to spend this time together, since he would start working in the mines that next Monday.

On Midsummer's day Katniss returns from the woods outside the fence early, to prepare for the several toastings her family will attend. As she sits in the wash tub, scrubbing the grit from under her nails, she eagerly thinks of all the small children from the Seam who have rarely had fresh meat, eating the pork, chins slick with grease.

Her fingers are pruning when she finally dries off, having had to wait for her mother to bring more water so she could rinse her hair.

Mrs. Everdeen walks into the room, a pale green dress draped over her arm. She combs out Katniss's wet hair, braiding and then pinning it up.

"I thought the green would look lovely with your complexion," says Mrs. Everdeen, a little shyly. "Bring out your eyes."

Katniss is touched that her mother had given any thought to her at all and gives her a small smile. It is still a bit hard for her to accept these types of gestures. Mrs. Everdeens negligence after 's death nearly five years before had hurt Katniss nearly as much as losing her father. But she's been trying, for Prim, to be kind.

A young woman stares at her through the cracked mirror sullenly, her expression the only feature seeming familiar. Katniss's body seems small and unwomanly in her trousers and buttoned shirts. The soft clinging fabric of the dress, however, enhances her gentle curves. The low neckline displays her clavicle, the hollow of her throat, and long graceful lines of her neck. The sash ties in front, and gives her the appearance of hips. While buttoning the straps of her mother's flat slippers she wonders what Gale might think of the dress, if he'll laugh at her, like he had the summer before.

"Oh Katniss," Prim says, rushing into the room breathlessly. "You look so beautiful!"

"You look so beautiful, little Duck!" says Katniss, with a wide smile. "Where have you been?"

"I was bringing Lady back from the Meadow," says Prim. "And picking the last of the wild flowers, for the brides." She kneels on the floor beside their bed and retrieves several hair ribbons from her basket of treasures.

"Here, help me, please?" say Prim, handing a ribbon to Katniss.

"With what?" says Katniss. "You're already wearing ribbons."

"They're for the flowers," says Prim, over her shoulder as she bounces through the door.

Together they bunched the foxgloves, daisies, indian paintbrushes, jacobs ladders, and black eyed susans into bouquets and bound them with pale pink and blue ribbons.

Prim revels in the couples obvious joy, clasping and unclasping her hands, sighing the entire time. Katniss prefers regular toastings to the rushed variant that occurs this time of year, the ceremonies she attends that day seemed almost impersonal in their repetition. Mrs. Everdeen was the personification of propriety, though her concentration seems to slip while the vows are pledged.

Before walking to town Katniss and Mrs. Everdeen wait by the gate while Prim retrieves three carefully wrapped cheeses and a tin cup from the kitchen, the late afternoon sun still high.

Surrounded by their neighbors they walk with arms linked, making their way carefully along the road, trying not to disturb the settled coal dust.

Along the way they meet Gale and the other Hawthorns, Rory and Vic, his two younger brothers, and Posy, the baby of the family, perched on Gale's shoulders clutching her cup. Prim smiles broadly at Rory, who smiles back, shyly. Mrs. Hawthorn and Mrs. Everdeen chat about the different toastings they attended. Katniss and Gale walked behind, silently. All of the Hawthorns seem to be wearing their Reaping clothes, except for Posey, who is wearing one of Prim's old dresses.

Gale glances at her enough times that she grows uncomfortable, and refuses to return his looks. She itches to rush ahead, to escape his stare and this herd of people that now seem too close. Stepping ahead she grasps Prims free hand and they swing their linked arms, grinning at each other.

The scent of roasting meat greets them even before they've reached the outskirts of the businesses. Katniss's excitement returns, and though only moments before she'd been wishing she was far away dressed in her own clothes, she finds that she's almost as eager as Prim.

At the square Prim leaves her cheese at one of the less full tables. As the sun descends behind the western peaks they eat their small share of the feast. Katniss glances around, taking more sustenance from the delight of others than the food she chews.

As soon as the last crumb is sucked off her fingertips, Prim drags Katniss toward the music and dancing. Gale veers toward his school friends, grumbling "I don't dance."

The musicians play beside the dancers, two fiddlers, a man with a bajo, a woman with a mandolin, and a flutist. Katniss and Prim take their place in line facing each other, clapping. Winter evenings had given them plenty of time to practise, so they were quite good partners. They twirl and spin, laughing.

When they switch partners Katniss is surprised to find herself paired with Peeta Mellark. Somehow he seems taller than the last time she'd seen him, just a few weeks before on the last day of school. The faded blue button shirt, probably a hand-me-down from one of his brothers, makes his eyes seem bluer, if that were possible.

He smiles down at her, hand clasped over hers, the other firmly on her waist. When did he begin looking so manly? Just as she begins to compose herself they spin away from each other and she's with someone else.

Again and again she's startled when she twirls into Peeta's arms, looks up into his face, and each time he smiles, as if to reassure her.

He's still holding her when one reel ends, and the next song starts slow, a waltz for the older crowd. Most of the kids scamper away to see what food is left, or to find their cup to get a drink from the water pump. As Katniss pulls away Peeta catches her hand.

"Where are you going?" says Peeta. "Stay and dance a whole one with me."

Trying to muster an excuse to get away, Katniss finds her mind blank.

"Okay," she says.

She steps back toward Peeta and settles a hand on his shoulder. They dance well together, and she enjoys being led, rather than having to lead Prim. She catches herself glancing up at his face several times, only to see his own eyes trained on hers. As the strains of melody tremulously fade into the deepening night Katniss steps away, firmly.

"I'm thirsty, and I need to check on Prim," she says, making eye contact.

"She's over by the bonfire with her friends," Peeta says, pointing. "I'll get you a drink and meet you over there."

"You don't have to do that, I can get my own," Katniss says, annoyed, knowing that he'll insist.

"Oh, I don't mind," Peeta says with a wide grin.

Katniss finds Prim with several girls, all of them giggling and talking faster than she could follow. Walking around the fire she finds an empty space on one of the logs set out as makeshift benches.

Just as she sits Peeta appears and plops down beside her, offering her his cup. Most of the cold water is gone before she realizes he might want some too, and gives the cup back. He takes the last swallow and sets the cup down.

Stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his feet he begins to talk. He tells her stories about growing up the youngest of three brothers, bakery antics, and grins proudly every time he catches Katniss smiling. She tells him some of her more colorful hunting incidents, and some sweet stories about Prim, after Peeta asks. She starts to tell him a story about her favorite constellation, but finds the square is too illuminated to see much more than the Summer Triangle.

"Come on!" she says, jumping up, tugging on Peeta's hand to get him to follow her.

He doesn't let go of her hand the entire trek to the Meadow. The road is unfamiliar in the dark, and they often stumble. In the center of the Meadow Katniss flops down and waves to the empty space beside her. And then she tells him stories her father had taught her about the stars, her face and voice animated, her hands gesture above them in the air.

Peeta looks at her expectantly, and an idea comes to mind what he must want.

Pausing, she clears her throat. "Thank you, Peeta. For the bread, for giving me the bread."

Raising his head off the grass he peers at her. "The bread, from when we were kids? That was nothing, I just wish I could have done more."

Katniss feels her face flush ands sits up, pulling her knees to her chest.

"It wasn't nothing," she says. "It was everything! It saved my life, my sister's life! And you could have gotten in so much trouble if your mother found out! Why did you do it?"

Peeta opens and closes his mouth, presses his lips together, rakes the curls off his forehead, and then lets his head fall to the ground. He slowly lets out a deep breath.

"We were five the first time I ever saw you," he says. "My father walked me to school on the first day. He pointed at little girl in a red plaid dress, hair in two braids, instead of one. He said 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner.'"

Katniss stares in shock.

"And I asked why'd she want a coal miner when she could have had him," says Peeta. "He said, 'Because when he sings... even the birds stop to listen.'"

"They do!" Katniss says. "I mean, they did." Katniss is surprisingly moved that the old baker had told this to Peeta.

"So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song," says Peeta. "Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent."

"No, that didn't happen, did it?" says Katniss.

"It did," says Peeta, insistently. "And right when your song ended, I knew, just like your mother, I was a goner."

Katniss lets out the breath she'd been holding, warmth bubbling in her chest.

"You've always been lovely, even then, always singing and laughing, dancing everywhere you went," says Peeta. "I thought your eyes must have been made from stars. And after... the mining accident, I saw you fading away. Till you were practically translucent and the light had left your eyes. I was so afraid for you."

The warmth spreads out from her chest, soaking into her bones and she feels that she must be glowing.

"It was more than anyone else did, Peeta," says Katniss, softly. "You saved us that day." All this time Katniss has been feeling she owes Peeta, while he's only felt regret at not doing more.

"Me? No, you saved you."

"Peeta..."

"You're so strong and-"

"Peeta! Stop-"

"And brave-"

Impulsively Katniss leans over and presses her lips to his, to stop more words from spilling out. Peeta inhales sharply through his nose. Embarrassed by her boldness she pulls back, unsure of what to do.

Peetas lips follow hers, his fingertips ghost over her cheek to the side of her head. His lips brush against hers lightly, as if testing their realness. A curious feeling stirs in her midsection, of wanting more kisses from this boy. Of wanting to learn him.

His kisses are sweet and unhurried, yet underneath seem fueled with immeasurable heat. It was as if before she were nothing but dry kindling, and now, surely, she must be so luminescent that the stars above could be nothing but dull imitations.

Peeta touches his forehead to Katniss's, breathing in soft pants, before laying back into the grass, head pillowed upon his bent arm.

"Do you have anymore stories for me?" says Peeta.

Katniss shakes her head.

"None come to mind," she says.

"Well, lets see if I've been a good student," he says, and pulls her down beside him. Resting her head on his shoulder, the arm wraps under her her ribs, and his hand splays over her waist to gently hold her to him. The gesture is so comforting that her eyes and nose sting. She coughs to alleviate the burning of her throat.

He recites back some of the stories, sometimes pausing for confirmation if he'd pointed to the right place in the sky, or if he was unsure of what came next. After a time he pauses, with a sigh.

"Katniss, we'd better get back, you're family will start to wonder where you've gone," says Peeta.

Not wanting to worry her mother or Prim she bounces up, suddenly impatient to be away. When Peeta takes her hand again a cold shiver creeps up her spine. They make their way back, a quickly as they can, though to Katniss it seems to take much longer than usual.

At the edge of town Peeta pauses, stopping Katniss and pulling her back to him.

"I had a great time tonight, Katniss," says Peeta with quiet enthusiasm. "Can we… can I see you again?"

"Yeah, I'll see you on Sunday, when I come to trade," Katniss says, looking down at the toes of Peeta's worn boots. The creeping cold seems to squeeze her heart, making it hard to breath. He wraps a strong arm around her and rests his cheek atop her hair, her ear pressed to his chest.

As much as Katniss wants to find Prim, stepping away from Peeta's warmth is almost physically painful. She gives him a half smile and they walk the rest of the way into town in silence, not touching.


	2. Chapter 2 Autumn of Discontent

After spending almost the whole summer alone in the woods, except Sundays with Gale, Katniss has never been more reluctant to return to school, only to be trapped inside smothered by so many other people.

Prim practically vibrates with excitement as she skips towards school, her worn blouse carefully ironed and tucked into her skirt. Katniss truges behind with a dutiful smile, though as they draw closer she moves ever slower, anxiety building in her chest.

Bile is burning in the back of Katniss's throat when they've reached the District 12 school yard. Scolding herself to get it together, she turns to Prim.

"See you right here after school, little Duck," she says, tugging on one of Prims golden braids.

"Don't call me that here, someone might hear you," says Prim, peevishly. "I'll see you later."

Prim disappears into the crowd of noisy kids. Katniss stares after her, realizing her sweet sister is not quite so little anymore. She's in a daze as she wanders to her first class. By the window is the the desk she's sat in the last few years. Dropping her bag against the wall she slides into the metal seat, props her chin on her hand, and stares out longingly.

Ignoring the other students filling up the room around her, she loses herself in a daydream. She barely hears the teacher greeting them, and just catches her say that they are to stay in the seats they've just chosen the entire year, same as they had for years.

Glancing around she finds, to her horror, Peeta Mellark watching her from the next desk over. She should have waited till the class was almost full to choose a seat. She'd been avoiding him all summer and now that would be infinitely more difficult.

She resolutely faces forward, angling her body slightly away from him, burning cheeks betraying her calm exterior. Apparently simply staying away from him was not a clear enough message. As soon as class is dismissed she bolts for the door and hides in the girls bathroom till the hallway is nearly empty.

On the second day Peeta slips a note under her elbow, which she crumples and drops into her bag. She hides in the bathroom again, and leaning against the cool tiles she smooths out the paper. The boyish writing reads " _Please look at me_."

The breath catches in Katniss's chest, then sputters out with a lamenting moan, so soft it's nearly a sigh. The paper flutters to the floor as she presses the heel of her palms into her eyes, willing them to cease their traitorous leaking.

The deep ache, a painful emptiness, feels more raw than it had that first night, when she realized that she'd made a terrible mistake kissing him under the stars in the Meadow. He elicits emotions from her that feel dangerously close to something she swore, after her father died, she would never feel. She wonders why she feels his loss so deeply, when she's spent so little time with him. How does she feel like he's left her empty when there was barely time for him to take root?

Continuing to see him would only lead to more pain. She has only so much to offer, and he would grow to hate her. Better to save them both from what could only be temporary. She wonders if it's too late to save herself. But she has to be strong for both of them. He probably wouldn't understand that she doesn't want to marry and risk having kids, kids that could face starvation and the reaping bowl.

No, she was right to not see him again. Though perhaps she ought to tell him something, to explain her distance. She spent the whole summer in the forest with the excuse that she wanted to make sure they were fully prepared for winter, but really she's been afraid to face Peeta. Not because she's afraid to do what must be done, but that she wouldn't do it all. That all the reasons in the world would slip out of her head like pearls off a string. That with him there would be no reason that could seem logical enough.

She told herself that he couldn't be too put out, and had begun to believe it, till reading his note. Sure, Prim mentioned he'd asked about her, after a trip to town, but that was manners.

After twenty minutes she finds that she's still sniveling. She flees the bathroom, thinking of the forest but somehow arrives home. Without removing her boots, she crawls into bed and pulls the quilt over her head. Finally, crying out, she kicks the covers off and splashes water from the sink on her face before falling back onto the bed.

Prim nudges her awake with the toe of her shoe.

"Are you okay?" says Prim, eyebrows drawn. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Oh! Sorry, I left early," says Katniss, sleepily. "I wasn't feeling well, and then I fell asleep. I meant to walk back for you. Did you wait long?"

"No, you're always there before me, so I only waited till most of the kids left," says Prim, leaning over to feel Katniss's forehead. "I was pretty sure you'd gone. What's wrong?"

"Oh, a headache," says Katniss. "But I feel fine now."

Prim squints at her with her lips pursed.

"Your color's been off all summer," she says. "And you've been losing weight. Have you felt sick to your stomach?"

Katniss shakes her head.

"Only when my head hurts, and that's not very often," says Katniss. "And I've been pretty active the last few months, I haven't always taken the time to eat." Katniss smiles, she's really quite proud of all the food that's been prepared and stored away. The coming winter should be quite comfortable in the Everdeen home.

Prim continues to stare, but with a shake of her head goes to the kitchen to start her homework.

The next morning, as Katniss is longing to to transform into a bird and fly far away, Peeta slides another note onto her desk. It's not folded scrap of lined paper, but white and empty, ripped on one side, like it had been torn from a book. Hesitating, she recalls Peeta's simple plea and how it had affected her yesterday. Clamping her jaw tightly she turns the page over and is immediately overwhelmed.

Before her is a beautiful and detailed sketch of a dandelion.

He saw her pick that flower, the day after he gave her the bread. He can't possibly know what that moment represented, their salvation, provided by the hope he'd given her. She can't tear her eyes away. He must think she just likes them.

The bell rings, and her classmates pack away their books and chatter loudly as they exit the room. Still, she is frozen by the memory. Someone tentatively touches her shoulder. Blinking, she turns to see Peeta crouching beside her, his mouth close enough to kiss.

"Katniss, please won't you just talk to me?" he says, quietly. She has to tell him something, because much more of this and she'd relent, despite her reasons. She can't stand to see people in pain, and often retreats to the forest when someones brought to her mother for treatment.

"Yeah, uh, meet me by that tree, by the road, at the beginning of lunch," says Katniss, sliding out of her seat, clutching her bag in one hand and the picture in another.

As soon as she's in the restroom she locks herself in the stall. She looks at the picture once more and then carefully places it between the pages of her history book.

No one is by the tree as she approaches, but sees Peeta's boots, and walks around to the other side. Peeta's leaning back against the tree reading, his legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankle. He glances up, expression hopeful. Katniss continues slowly down the road, and she can hear his boots scraping against the ground as he climbs to his feet to follow her.

Catching up quickly, he matches her pace, his hands shoved in his pockets. Swiveling around in front of her his hand grasps her shoulder, holding her in place.

"Katniss, just look at me," he says. "Please."

She does, and wishes she'd never agreed to talk. Peeta looks about as terrible as she feels.

"Did I do something wrong?" he says. "Do I have something to apologize for? Please, tell me."

"No!" says Katniss, breaking away. "Nothing! It's me. I- I- should never have - I'm sorry."

"Do you already have something with Gale?" says Peeta, sadly.

"No, I don't want a boyfriend. I don't want to date anyone," she says.

"Well, could we be friends? Could we try that?" he says, hopeful again.

To be friends with Peeta might be wonderful, or the worst kind of torture. To talk or joke with him, close enough to touch or kiss, but not being allowed to. It would be unfair to both of them. Just standing there in the road her hand itched to push the curls back from his forehead. It would be impossible, the longing would overwhelm her senses.

"I can't be friends with you, I'm sorry. I have to go," she says, glancing up long enough to see his pale stricken face before rushing home. Hiding under the bedclothes she sobs, feeling like she's killed something precious, unable to erase Peeta's haunting expression from her mind.

In the weeks that follow the warm weather holds, but the nights grow ever colder till one morning in early October the whole of the District has been kissed with frost. Katniss moves on from her pain, as she's done before. Prim continues to badger her to eat more, and she tries, though she has no appetite. Peeta too seems thinner this autumn, from what Katniss can see of him in the lunchroom. In general he seems the same as always, though perhaps smiling less.

Just as the trees turn from green to golds, reds, and oranges Peeta stops coming to school. Katniss doesn't notice right away, she never looks at him in class and sometimes doesn't see him at lunch. At first she's annoyed at herself, she's not supposed to care. After a week she grows concerned.

Then, while walking home from school, she overhears a group of girls, a few grades below hers, walking in just in front of her talking over each other excitedly.

"You didn't hear?!"

"No, I know because my cousin is friends with one of his brothers."

"I swear it's true."

"Peeta Mellark is dying!"

Katniss freezes, eyes wide. The girls fade into the distance. A small hand touches her elbow, prompting her forward. The hand slips into hers, though she could not return the squeeze it gives, she continues moving mechanically. Once home she's forced down to the couch in the living room. There are voices, one higher, the other lower, but all she hears are their cadance. Then a sharp smell placed under her nose wrenches her from the safe place in her mind.

"Katniss, can you hear me?" says Mrs. Everdeen, kneeling in front of Katniss with a small flashlight.

Katniss nods.

"Did you hit your head? I didn't feel any trauma," says Prim.

Kaniss shakes her head.

"Katniss what happened?" says Mrs. Everdeen.

Katniss shakes her head again, closing her eyes.

"What's wrong with her, mom?" says Prim.

"I think she's just in shock, but from what?" says Mrs. Everdeen.

"Oh… I think… I think she's heard about Peeta," says Prim.

Mrs. Everdeen sighs. "I was hoping there'd be something better to say by the time the news hit the school."

Snapping her head up Katniss looks from her mother to her sister.

"Katniss, I can't tell you much, he's my patient," says Mrs. Everdeen. "It's not looking very good, but I believe if he can make it through the night... I'm heading back soon. Prim, stay with Katniss, she's in no shape to be alone." She turns back to the table laid out with supplies and continues to pack her bag.

Prim hands Katniss a mug of tea, mint by the smell. With every breath the spicy scent relaxes her frozen muscles. By the time she thinks to take a sip it's cold. Still, she continues to swallow until the mug is empty.

The mug is replaced by a piece of bread. Bakery bread, white, not the hearty kind full of nuts and dried fruit, like the bread Peeta was beaten for so he could feed her.

"The baker gave it to mom this morning, it's still fresh," says Prim.

"I'm not hungry," say Katniss holding out the bread to give it back. "I need to go hunting."

"No, we still have some of the stew from yesterday," says Prim. "You should try to rest."

Wordlessly Katniss climbs the stairs and perches at the edge of the mattress. Sleep will not find her, she can't shut off her thoughts.

Shifting, she presses her forehead to the frigid glass and forces herself to imagine, in detail, a world without Peeta, a life with no color or warmth. The years stretch before her, always winter, no hope of spring. While she does not allow the word into her consciousness, she knows, in her bones, that she must love him.

The revelation has come too late. He'll die, leaving her a husk of ash, and never knowing she cares.

There is a deep boom followed by a brilliant flash moments later. A soft pitter patter on the roof quickly transforms into the roar of a tempest.

At some point during her vigil Prim drapes their mother's quilt around her shoulders before snuggling against her back.

Starting, Katniss wakes, her body stiff from sitting all night, her eyes burn from unshed tears. But the storm has passed and dawn is breaking over the Meadow, wispy greys and soft golds and peaches. The vermillion sun crowns the trees, and the world is set aglow.

"You're awake," says Mrs. Everdeen, from the doorway, looking exhausted and worn.

Katniss looks at her mother, unable to speak.

"The worst has passed, Katniss, the fever broke sometime this morning," says Mrs. Everdeen. "It may take a while, but he should recover."

Katniss rises from the bed and kisses her mother's cheek before pulling on her coat and shutting the door behind her. She walks through the Meadow, arms wrapped around herself, shaking with relief. The rumbles of her stomach remind her that she hasn't eaten since breakfast the day before.

There is snow on the ground by the time Peeta returns to school, just a week before the Harvest Festival. Katniss waits for him just outside the classroom, one shoulder leaning against the wall. The relief in seeing him whole and alive, before her, is instant. Even breathing is easier. He seems to have regained some of the weight he'd lost, and his color seems better.

He makes his way slowly down the hall, halting when he sees she's watching him. He resumes, wearily, his eyes flicking from the the floor to her face, and then back to the floor. Pushing off the wall, unable to remain stationary, she moves to him. He waits for her, placing a hand against the wall, as if to steady himself.

All Katniss has thought of, since that terrible night, is seeing Peeta. Now he's here, close enough to reach out and touch, and she has no idea what to do or say. Peeta watches her, patiently waiting for her to speak, his expression quizzical.

Finally she reaches out and clasps his hand with a squeeze, rolls up onto her toes, and kisses his cheek.

"I'm glad you're better," says Katniss, making eye contact. "I was- so worried." She turns back toward the classroom, releasing Peeta's hand. His grip tightens and he tugs her back into an embrace.

"You care," says Peeta, his voice thick.

"Too much," whispers Katniss, leaning her body into his wrapping her arms around his back.


End file.
